Heart of Fire, Heart of Gold
by CoolBreeze1
Summary: Things go drastically wrong for Sheppard after Atlantis takes in a group of refugees from a Wraith culling.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is my entry for Secret Santa 08 over at Sheppard H/C on LJ, for Obsessed1o1. Enjoy!_

**Heart of Fire, Heart of Gold**

_**Part 1**_

"Are you alright, John?" Teyla asked. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the empty hallway in front of her, but she couldn't help the quick glance over at her team leader. For anyone who didn't know him, John Sheppard looked healthy enough, but Teyla knew better. She had known him too long to not notice that his movements seemed a little too stiff and a little too measured. He was walking at a normal pace, but he looked like he was slightly hunched over.

"I'm fine."

"So why do I need to come again?" Rodney McKay interrupted, grumbling again for the third time in five minutes before Teyla could say anything more to John.

She heard her team leader sigh before answering, but he sounded exhausted more than irritated. "I'm not explaining this to you again, Rodney," he finally said.

They kept walking, their steps echoing down the empty hallway. Teyla glanced around, not sure what she was looking for. It looked like every other empty hallway in Atlantis. They weren't even that far from the inhabited parts of the city.

"Oh, right. Some kid wandered off and is now lost—I get that. What I don't understand is why I have to help."

"Rodney," Teyla said, shocked at the seeming callousness of his words. She shot a glance at the five villagers following them and wondered what they must think of the physicist.

"I didn't mean it like that," Rodney quickly amended, then glared at Ronon when the man grunted. "I'm just saying that my specific talents might be put to better use say in the control tower, working with the scanners to search the city."

"You're on my team, McKay, and I need you here. Try to sound a little more sympathetic, will you?" John answered.

Rodney muttered in response, and Teyla resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she glanced back at the five villagers again. Teyla didn't recognize any of them, but Atlantis had been overrun in the last three days with the large group of refugees from Hajo. It had been hectic as they'd rushed to clean out one of the uninhabited wings and make it livable for the most recent Wraith victims.

John stumbled but quickly regained his footsteps. His hand immediately moved to his chest, where it seemed to hover uncertainly before moving back to his side. He caught Teyla's eye and shook his head, and Teyla bit her lip to stop from asking if he was alright again. He looked a little pale, but it could be the low lighting in this part of Atlantis.

They'd all been running like crazy, trying to get the refugees settled in and fed. Keller had been overrun in the infirmary with a mass of people traumatized by the culling that had sent them running to Atlantis for help. Teyla had devoted her time to helping the infirmary staff. The number of actual injuries was minimal, and she'd recognized that most of the villagers just needed someone to assure them that they were safe from the Wraith for the moment.

She'd seen John running around Atlantis throughout the three days, making sure everything and everyone was taken care of. He'd looked tired and stressed after the first day, exhausted after the second. She'd made sure he'd got some sleep last night, but she was positive he was still tired and still worrying about the new group of people suddenly under his care.

Teyla heard Rodney sigh again loud enough to ensure that everyone heard him. John had called them to the Hajos' residence wing about twenty minutes earlier. Ronon had arrived a few minutes before Teyla, and they'd waited with varying degrees of patience for Rodney to finally show up. John had explained that one of the ruling council's children had gotten upset and run away, and Teyla had accepted the explanation that they needed to help look for him without hesitation, but now that she thought about it, Rodney had a point, too. With all the technology on Atlantis, it seemed like the scientist would be more productive searching the city from a computer console.

The team and the five village men stopped in front of a transporter. Teyla caught John's glance at one of the villagers, a large scruffy man with dark eyes and a wide jaw. The man frowned, shifting back and forth on his feet. He didn't seem overly concerned about the missing child, so Teyla surmised it wasn't his child who had run off.

_Impatient? Tired? Frustrated at being roped into the search like Rodney?_ Teyla couldn't quite place the man's expression. John hadn't bothered to introduce any of the villagers, just waved his hand at them and said they'd be helping.

Teyla watched her team leader move toward the transporter and study the map a minute before turning to the rest of them. His face still looked pale, and dark circles ringed his eyes. He pointed to a spot on the far edge of the city.

"Let's start our search here."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

John stared at the map outside of the transporter, feeling everyone's eyes on his back. Teyla kept moving closer to him, studying him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fool her for long.

_Please don't ask if I'm alright,_ he begged her silently. His chest and stomach were raw with pain as he reached up toward the map.

"Let's start our search here," he said.

"How do you know the kid got in a transporter?" McKay asked, too logical for everyone's good. John cringed. The runaway kid story had been the first thing to pop into his head when he'd called his team down to the lead councilor's quarters. It really wasn't going to last much longer.

He felt a sudden surge of anger—mostly at himself. He'd let his guard down, and now he was paying for it. Before the day was out, his whole team might pay for his mistake. Pain lanced through his chest again and he bit his lip to keep from moaning or crying out. As he stood there, his mind flashed back to earlier that day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_John Sheppard weaved his way down one of the newly opened residence halls of Atlantis, stepping over and around running children, groups of gossiping adults, and the occasional small herd animal. He shook his head in shock at how quickly circumstances on Atlantis could change. He'd spent the first day of the Hajos' arrival frantically cleaning out of one of the empty residence wings. Most of that night had then been spent overseeing room assignments and making sure everyone was settled, that those who needed medical help were taken care of, and that they had enough food stores to cover everyone's need._ This is not happening. Not here, not on Atlantis. _Hands ripped his handgun and knife from his belt and his radio from his ear. A few moments later, he felt his muscles beginning to relax and he let his forehead fall to the floor. He'd been tired enough to begin with…_

Less than four hours of sleep later, John was back and dealing with an onslaught of questions and complaints from people overwhelmingly traumatized by the Wraith attack, which sounded like it had been way more brutal than was normal—even for the Wraith.. He'd stopped in to check on Keller at one point, and sympathized with the run on the infirmary of sick, injured, and terrified patients. John had managed a little more sleep the night before—thanks mostly to Teyla's prodding to get some rest—but only three cups of coffee had managed to keep him awake during Woolsey's early morning briefing to go over possible relocation sites.

John turned down a side hallway off the main wing to where the refugee ruling council had taken up residence. He slapped the folder holding one-page descriptions of the refugees' options for a new planet lightly against his leg. All this information could have easily been put on a thumb drive, as McKay had pointed out, but Woolsey liked his paper.

He reached the farthest door—Lead Councilor Tebel's, the head of the Hajo ruling council. John had only talked to the man a few times. He'd seemed almost overwhelmed at the responsibility placed on his shoulders, and John could certainly relate to that.

"Colonel, hello. Please, come in," the man said as he opened the door. He looked even more tired and stressed out than John remembered.

The colonel smiled, stepping into the room. It was unexpectedly crowded, and he greeted the rest of the council, who had jumped to their feet at John's entrance.

"I apologize, Colonel Sheppard. We were holding an impromptu meeting."

"Oh, that's alright. I'm glad you're all here," he said, glancing around. Most of the council was sitting in the small room, as well as a few faces he didn't recognize. He waved the folder in his hand. "We've found some planets for you to review, that would be suitable for relocation."

The head councilor nodded absently, signaling John forward. He took the folder and sat down at the desk that had been dragged into the center of the room as a makeshift conference table and sighed heavily as he opened it up and began flipping through the pages.

"Is everything alright?" John asked.

"Yes, fine," Tebel answered without looking up.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw someone moving behind him, closing the door and blocking his only exit. Alarm bells instantly went off in his head, and he reached for his sidearm and radio.

He had just reached a finger up to tap his radio earpiece when his hand was jerked backward. His arms were wrestled behind him as he was forced to the floor, and a couple of quick kidney punches had him subdued before he realized what was happening.

"What the hell?" he yelled, and then a knee pressed into his back, pressing his chest into the floor and forcing the air out of his lungs. He gasped as he struggled against them, but there were too many holding him down.

"Watch his face! Don't bruise his face," someone growled above him.

John felt a sharp prick on his shoulder, and he groaned.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Sheppard?" Ronon's voice broke through John's thoughts, and John jerked his head around. He winced as raw nerves pulled in his chest and stomach, but he managed to cover it up as he turned back toward the transporter. He hoped so anyway.

"We'll have to split up. We can't all fit into the transporter," he said, stepping into the small space. If he could just get those five villagers far enough away, maybe he could salvage this situation. Or at least minimize the damage.

"How do you know which way to go?" Rodney asked, folding his arms.

_Stop thinking, McKay. Stop asking so many damn questions,_ John pleaded in his mind, but he forced a scowl into his expression and glared at the scientist.

"We aren't the only people searching for this kid. Our job is to search this section," he snapped, waving his hand over the farthest edge of the city. "If you question me one more time about this, I will have Ronon shoot you."

McKay glared back at him, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. John would get an earful later, he was sure, but for now he'd managed to silence the scientist.

His team stepped forward, planning to join him in the transporter. One of the villagers cleared his throat, and John looked up to see all five of them staring intently back, their faces hard. The man in the center casually stuck his hand in his pocket and John swallowed in trepidation, waiting for the flood of pain to his midsection. He could see the man's teeth clenching behind his large, unshaved jaws.

"Uh…Ronon and McKay, why don't you two bring the second group? Teyla and I will go first."

Ronon stepped back, pulling the scientist with him but pinning John with a strange look. John knew the man was getting suspicious, but he couldn't risk doing anything. Not yet. He carefully avoided the runner's gaze and turned to the villagers. The large man stepped forward, taking his hand out of his pocket, and John sighed in relief when his body wasn't wracked with agony. The largest villager was followed by two of the others. They crammed into the transporter and John tapped the farthest corner of the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_John lay face down on the floor, breathing heavily and feeling like he'd just run a marathon. The hands holding him down shifted suddenly and he felt himself being lifted up. John stared at the dozen feet standing on either side of him as they moved him from the floor to the bed, stripping him of his vest and t-shirt. His arms flopped uncontrollably as the muscle relaxant took effect, and then he was lying face up on the bed and staring at the ceiling._Gjon, that was the guy's name. Like my name but with a 'guh' at the beginning. Guh. Guh-jon…That voice was not Guh-jon's. That was the man with the jaw…Jaw Man… Jowels…Jaws…Where have I seen him before?_ John tried to turn his head, but his neck muscles refused to move, and he lay limply on the bed._Jaws,_ John silently dubbed him—appeared again in front of John, kneeling down next to the bed. He held a small, silver disk in his fingers about three inches in diameter and a half an inch thick, and John stared at it, mesmerized, as the man flipped it around in his hand. The soft light in the room kept catching the shiny edge of the disk with a bright flash._

A man appeared overhead, his face unshaven. He had a large jaw and small, dark eyes, and he glared at John. John blinked back at him, a small part of him screaming at himself to do something, to raise the alarm, to defend himself. The urge to go to sleep was overwhelming, though, and he let his eyes drift closed.

"Hey, hey," someone said, thumping their knuckles against his chest. John groaned, forcing his eyes open. A different face was looking down at him, this one thin with bushy eyebrows that moved up and down when he spoke. John knew this man—recognized him as one of the councilors under Tebel.

"Gejj…Gezz..ahn…" John muttered, trying to say the man's name. His mouth felt weird and he couldn't quite form the word around half-numb lips.

"He is awake," the eyebrow man said.

"How much did you give him? We need him awake and coherent."

"We have a bottle of Tikkar. That will awaken him with speed."

"No, not yet. It is probably better to do this while he is still uncoordinated."

The man with the large jaw—

"Do you know what this is?" Jaws asked, and John forced his eyes to move so he could look at the man who was obviously in charge. He had no idea what the disk was, not that he could have expressed that at this point.

"I need your help, Colonel Sheppard, and this will insure that I get it."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Teyla squeezed into the corner of the transporter. They could hold four—maybe five—people but not comfortably. One of the villagers pressed in next to her as the doors slid shut, and she stepped away from him as much as she could, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. She could understand searching for a missing child, but she hadn't heard anything about anyone else searching, and John's whole approach seemed a little too haphazard.

Ronon had noticed it too. She'd seen it in the look he gave them as the transporter doors slid shut. Something was wrong—with John or with the villagers, or something else entirely. She couldn't pinpoint it. She felt a niggling of unease curl and twist in the pit of her stomach.

The transporter flashed and the doors slid open. The villagers stood frozen for a second, obviously having no idea what to expect. She jumped through the doors at the same time as John and grabbed his arm as he stumbled forward.

"John?"

He didn't answer, just swayed for a minute, his hand once again hovering over but not touching his midsection.

"John, what's wrong?"

The three villagers had finally stepped out of the transporter as well and were now gathering around them. John seemed to realize how closely everyone was looking at him, and he shook off Teyla's grip.

"I'm fine, Teyla. Sorry."

There was another flash behind them, and then Ronon, McKay and the other two villagers stepped out. Teyla kept her focus on John. His face was definitely pale, and his forehead had broken out into beads of sweat.

"John—" she started but before she could finish, he interrupted.

"I didn't eat much for dinner last night, and I missed breakfast this morning. I think I'm just hungry," he said quickly. He wiped a shaky hand across his forehead.

"Well, why didn't you say something?" Rodney asked, immediately digging into his vest pockets and producing a powerbar. "You know I always have food on me."

"Yeah, right, thanks," John mumbled. He took the powerbar with a grimace and began fumbling with the wrapper. "Come on. We've got to keep moving."

John headed off down the hall without a glance, and again Teyla wondered how he could be so sure they were heading in the right direction. The others followed, and Teyla hurried to catch up to John. He still had the powerbar in his hand, but he didn't seem to be eating it—not the way she'd expect a man dizzy from hunger to be eating, at any rate.

She wanted to ask him if he was alright, if he knew where they were going, if there was something else going on, but she bit her lip, holding back the flood of words. The villagers followed silently, appearing almost excited, and again Teyla swallowed back that sense of unease and discomfort. Her instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong, but John plunged forward down the hall with reckless abandon.

ooooooooooooooooooooo


	2. Chapter 2

_**Part 2**_

Teyla was on to him. John knew this absolutely. He was also pretty sure that Jaws was growing suspicious of her as well. Ronon had to know something was going on—very little got past that man. McKay on the other hand…well, he'd figure it out when the bullets started flying. John could only hope the man's sense of self-preservation would keep his instincts sharp.

He felt his breath hitch as pain burned through his chest again, and he bit his lip, barely holding back a cry of pain. The agony was becoming a constant throb now. He just had to hold on a little bit longer, find an open space to give his team room to move around and find cover.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Jaws held the silver disk out flat in his hand directly under John's nose. John stared at it dumbly, not sure what he was supposed to figure out. His muscles refused to obey the screaming voice in his head to move, to run, to get out of there._

Suddenly, a circle of thin, hook-like blades snapped out of the top. John jerked as much as his leaden body would allow in surprise, feeling his heart pound sluggishly beneath liquid muscles. Jaws flipped the disk over so that the hooks faced downward and hovered over his bare chest.

"The disk attaches to any part of the body I want, although I've found the chest and stomach region to be the most effective. Do you see this needle here, in the center?" he asked, pointing to a thick, straight spike in the center of the circle of curved hooks. It looked way too large to be a needle to John's eyes.

"This will inject a substance directly into your body that induces pain. Enough of it will eventually kill you."

"Www…wwtttt…"

"What do I want with you? Is that what you are trying to ask? My dear friend, I already told you. I want your help."

Jaws flipped the disk over in his hand, and the blades retracted back inside. He flipped it again and set it down on John's stomach, and John sucked in a breath at the feeling of cold metal against his skin. His arms twitched but otherwise remained splayed on either side of him.

The man laughed, then moved the disk up toward his chest and over John's heart. "How about here?" he asked. John could do nothing more than stare at him, but his heart rate was climbing and his breaths coming out in faster and faster pants. "Or here? Or maybe over here?"

Jaws moved the disk around his chest and stomach, pressing hard enough for John to feel the edges of the disk digging into his skin.

"The Nava is wearing off. He is beginning to move more," someone called out.

"Very well," Jaws answered and he set the disk at the center of John's torso on the edge of his sternum. "Hold down his arms and legs, and someone cover his face. I don't want anyone to hear him scream."

He stood up as others moved in closer, and John jerked as hands grabbed his arms and legs. The drug they'd given him was wearing off fast. If he could just twist far enough to get the disk to slide off his body…

Hands on his shoulders pinned him down to the bed, and he barely caught a glimpse of Gjon as the man leaned over him and pressed a pillow to his face. John panicked at the sudden darkness and began to struggle as much as his limp muscles would allow.

He vaguely heard Jaws hollering about not damaging his face, and then the disk was pressed into his skin. The hooks flew out of it, and John bucked at the ragged stabs of pain that exploded in his chest and stomach. He screamed into the pillow held too tightly over his face, tasting cotton and feathers, and he sucked in a shuddering gasp—or tried to, but he got a mouthful of fabric instead. He squirmed wildly, the last of the muscle relaxant wearing off as he struggled to breathe.

John's body was on fire, but the pain was quickly becoming muted at the lack of oxygen. His struggles grew weaker, and in the distance he heard panicked yelling.

The pillow was suddenly ripped off his face, and John instinctively sucked in the deepest breath he could manage. Pain ignited, spreading throughout his body, and he panted at the sensation of the metal hooks digging into his flesh and bones, attaching Jaws's little contraption firmly to his body.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"This way," John said as the group reached the end of the hallway. They were deep into the uninhabited, unexplored sections of Atlantis now. John cringed a little at the breathlessness in his voice, but he turned down another hallway and down a set of stairs.

The hooks from the disk dug into his flesh with every step. The movement of going down stairs versus across a flat surface was enough to pull and twist the little hooks into soft flesh and muscle. His legs began to shake at the excruciating pain, and he could feel moisture dripping down his stomach, but he wasn't sure if it was blood or just sweat. His hand hovered again over his chest, wanting to cradle the raw agony in his middle.

John had forced himself to eat a few bites of the powerbar McKay had given him, and now he could feel the acid in his stomach churning. The food was threatening to make a reappearance, and he really didn't think he'd be able to handle throwing up right now.

_Stairs were a bad idea then,_ John thought. He wondered briefly what would happen if he just let himself collapse, but before he could do anything, a hand grabbed his elbow, steadying him. John turned around, expecting Teyla or maybe even Ronon, and was surprised when he came face to face with Jaws.

The man was large, but somehow he'd managed to squeeze past his teammates to stand next to John. He kept one hand furtively on John's elbow and the other in his pocket. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the skin around the disk ripped. Drips of blood trickled down John's stomach and into the waistband of his pants, and he couldn't help the small whimper of pain that escaped.

Jaws's grip on his elbow tightened painfully, and the large villager glanced around, but no one else seemed to have been close enough to hear. _That was too close, buddy. Keep it together._

"Do you mind if we rest a moment?" Jaws asked, his voice sounding tired. John glanced up to see sweat drifting off the man's forehead and down the sides of his face. "I have been ill recently, and my strength is not what it once was."

_Maybe I can just run him into the ground,_ John thought weakly, but he was just as grateful for the rest and not entirely sure he could outlast the man. The others nodded, spreading around the wide hallway to sit on various pieces of debris.

John spotted one of the hallway benches that seemed to be a favored architectural feature of the Ancients. He moved over to it, a little chagrined that Jaws stuck right to his side. McKay sat down on another bench about fifteen feet away and started messing with his computer pad, while Teyla and Ronon spread out around the hallway. Jaws's friends seemed to wander around, looking for a place to sit, but they kept a close eye on all of John's team. There was no doubt in John's mind that if any of his team tried anything, the villagers would be in position to quickly take them out.

He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the large man next to him. Now that he'd stopped moving, he could feel his entire body beginning to shake with exhaustion and pain. He moved his hand to the center of this vest and let it rest lightly over the fabric.

Drops of blood continued to drip down his stomach, pooling into his waistband. John wondered if the disk was supposed to bleed that much. Sooner or later, the blood would saturate his pants, and someone—Ronon or Teyla—would notice. What was he supposed to say then?

"You're not thinking of trying anything stupid are you?" Jaws asked, leaning forward to whisper directly in John's ear. "I control you, Colonel. Do not forget that."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_"His nose is bleeding."_

"I told you not to damage his face."

"I apologize. It was not intentional. I did not expect him to struggle so much."

"Someone clean him up."

The voices floated over and around John, but the only thing he could concentrate on was the fire burning in the center of his chest. The pain had pulled back a little from the rest of his body, but it burned as strongly as ever right under the disk. The hands holding him down finally released their hold, but John was too spent and in too much pain to do anything besides lay there.

Someone brought a wet cloth to his face, wiping the blood dripping from his nose. The hands were gentle, and he felt a small hand brush the hair from his sweaty forehead. He blinked open sluggish eyes to see an older woman staring down at him with a mixture of worry and fear. She was on the council—John remembered her from the first day. Mirja, maybe? He couldn't quite pull her name from his memories, and then Jaws was back, pulling the woman roughly out of sight.

"Don't worry, Colonel. The pain will subside a little at first—enough for you to get up and move around." Jaws grinned. He tapped a finger against the silver disk, making sure it was firmly attached, and John groaned at the pain that lanced through his chest at the slight touch.

Jaws turned around and began yelling at people to get John dressed and ready to go. John started to ask where he thought they were planning to go, when rough hands yanked on his arms, bringing him to a sitting position.

The crowded room wavered in front of him, the people moving around him coalescing together. John groaned. The pain in his chest doubled, raking down into his stomach, and nausea began to churn. He closed his eyes, breathing as deeply as he could manage. He had to get help. He had to get out of here.

The muscle relaxant they'd given him had worn off, but he could offer no resistance when hands began maneuvering his arms back into his t-shirt and vest. He whimpered in pain when someone zipped up his vest and the disk pressed harder into his chest.

"Put him in the chair," Jaws growled, and John was dragged over to the seat he'd last seen Tebel in.

Where was Tebel?_ he wondered. He didn't have much of a chance to look around, though. He could hardly get his feet under him, and then he was being thrown into the chair. He cried out as the impact jarred his entire ribcage, and he felt himself sliding sideways off the seat toward the ground._

Just pass out, John. That's the best option right now. Pass out and then they can't do anything with you.__

He heard feet scrambling around him, then more hands catching him and sitting him upright. Spots floated in front of his face, and he begged for oblivion, but a hand wrapped around his jaw, holding his head in place.

John refused to open his eyes. He heard someone ask for something—Tikkar? He had no idea what that was. A bottle was shoved under his face, its pungent smell burning the inside of his nose all the way up into his forehead. His eyes jerked open and immediately began watering.

John twisted his head, but the grasp on his face was firm and unrelenting. They continued to hold the bottle of Tikkar—some kind of souped-up smelling salts, he realized—under his nose. The burning sensation was spreading across his face and into his throat. He could feel himself panting quickly, his heart thrumming with adrenaline, and for a brief moment, the nefarious disk attached to his chest was all but forgotten.

The hands finally released him, and John leaned forward. He probably would have fallen out of the chair, but he caught himself on the desk. He gripped the edge, breathing in fresh, clean air and willing his heart to slow down.

"We have a few things to discuss, Colonel. Let us delay no further," Jaws said, and John looked up to see the man lowering himself into a chair on the other side of the table.

"Go to hell," John snarled. Pain continued to radiate from his chest, but his body was settling down a little. Maybe enough for him to make a run. He looked around the room and saw Tebel, the woman with the washcloth, and two other councilors huddled in the corner. They looked terrified. Another man—no one John recognized—held a crude looking gun loosely in his hand, obviously guarding them.

John breathed a sigh of relief. They were in just as much trouble as he was. He sat back in the chair, trying to evoke a sense of confidence and control, but he cringed when the disk pulled painfully at his stomach. Okay, so maybe he was in a little more trouble than the three councilors,_ he amended. _At least he wasn't in this alone.__

"What do you want?" he asked, pleased when his voice came out steady and strong.

"You, Colonel. Or more specifically, your knowledge of this wondrous city," Jaws answered, waving his hand around his head. "We are well aware of the riches this city holds—plenty for all of us to share."

"What?"

"Surely you are not so arrogant as to believe that only you and your people are deserving of the treasures this city offers?" Jaws spoke lightly, but there was nothing at all easy-going in the man's demeanor.

"Treasures?"

"Don't play me for the fool, Colonel."

John shook his head, bewildered. What the hell was this guy after?__

As if in answer to his question, Jaws snapped his fingers, and Councilor Gjon stepped forward. He pulled out a paper folded neatly in half from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to Jaws. There's the weak link in the Ruling Council,_ John thought, catching Tebel glaring at his treacherous councilor._

Jaws spread the paper out on the desk and pushed it toward John. John glanced down at it, and saw some kind of crude map. The lines were faded and hand-drawn, and there was nothing to indicate this was in any way related to Atlantis.

"Is this supposed to mean something to me?"

Jaws frowned, growing increasingly impatient. He slammed his fist into the desk, causing everyone in the room to jump. John kept himself still, more out of fear of jarring the hooks digging into his body than any attempt to make an impression on his captor.

"I know you recognize what this map depicts. You will take me to this place," Jaws said, jabbing his finger into one corner of the page.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

"I am rested now. We should continue," the large man said. The other villagers jumped from the benches or debris they'd been sitting on as soon as the man spoke, and Teyla surmised that this man, whoever he was, was in charge.

She looked around, meeting Ronon's eyes. He nodded slightly at her then turned away. They'd spread out when the large man had called for a break to see how the other villagers would react. Teyla had to admit they'd done a good job of acting like normal villagers just lending a hand in the search for a missing child, but their movements during the break had given them away.

Ronon had obviously noticed it as well. The villagers had moved purposefully, keeping her and every member of her team within sight, and likely—she now realized—within range of whatever weapons they had hidden on them. Rodney had been fiddling with his computer pad, and he kept it in his hand as he stood up, his eyes intent on the screen.

Teyla searched for John, sitting at the far end with the large man. John looked terrible, and she was sure it wasn't just the poor lighting in this part of Atlantis. His face was slick with sweat, his skin an almost grayish color. As he stood up, he wavered a little, and probably would have collapsed back to the ground if the lead villager had not grabbed his arm and steadied him.

Teyla forced herself to take a steadying breath. She knew if she asked John whether he was feeling alright, he'd just shrug her off and tell her he was fine, like he'd done for the last hour. He looked so terrible though that the words came automatically to her lips.

"Are you alright, John?" she asked then cringed almost immediately at the stricken look on John's face.

"Fine," he answered, turning away from her. Obviously, he wasn't fine but for whatever reason, he was hiding it and Teyla had yet to figure out why. "Let's go, people."

John waved them forward with a glance, and the group began to move down the hallway again. Ronon moved forward so that he was standing right next to John, occasionally shooting a dark look at the large man on John's other side. Teyla silently begged him not to be too obvious. Something was going on here, and until they figured it out or John gave them some kind of signal, they had to play along.

The hallway they were in was wide, and Teyla wondered what it had once been used for. There was so much of Atlantis that remained a mystery to them. The floor and walls were covered in grime and mold, untouched by humans or Ancients for hundreds of years, maybe thousands.

John reached a cross hallway and immediately veered to the right. Teyla was positive the missing child story was fake, especially with the way John was acting. She watched him bring up a shaky hand to wipe his forehead with his sleeve.

He was weaponless—save for the 9mm strapped to his thigh. That was another oddity. Ronon had his blaster, and she and Rodney both had P90s, but John had refused to grab his P90, saying they didn't have time. He was usually adamant about being armed when heading into the unexplored sections of the city.

John slipped on a patch of grime under his feet, his arms flailing. Ronon grabbed his arm to keep him upright, and Teyla saw him grip the runner's shirt until his knuckles bleached white.

"Sheppard?"

John had stopped walking, breathing heavily. Teyla had heard him stifle a grunt of pure pain. One arm held onto Ronon, while the other wrapped itself around his stomach.

"Sorry…slipped…" he ground out, and she saw Ronon scowl at his response.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, buddy. I'm fine."

"Sheppard—" Ronon was not letting it drop. Teyla moved forward to catch up to them and she saw a look of pure panic in John's eyes for a split second before he smiled and patted the runner on the shoulder.

"It's been a long few days. Let's just…uh…find…find…"

"The missing child," Teyla supplied.

"Yeah, the kid." John took a deep breath and stood up a little taller, but Teyla could see minute trembles running through his body. Next to him, the large man was glaring at him, his lips pursed in a fine line.

"Sorry, just tired. Think I'm gonna need a few vacation days after this," John quipped, forcing some joviality into his voice. He pressed forward again without waiting for anyone.

ooooooooooooooooooooo


	3. Chapter 3

_**Part 3**_

John swore he could hear the blades of the disk scraping against bones and tearing through muscle. He wondered if there was some kind of electric component to it as well. Pulses of agony kept shooting out of the center from his diaphragm, down his stomach and up into his neck and shoulders.

That slip and his instinctive flail to keep his balance had ripped at his insides even more, and he'd barely suppressed the grunt of pain. He'd almost passed out right then and there, and if it hadn't been for both Ronon's and Jaws's grip on his arms, he probably would have dropped into oblivion. It had taken a long moment to chase back the dark spots creeping in on his vision.

John kept walking, forcing step after step after step. He wanted to grab his midsection and curl up into a ball, but his thoughts drifted back to his team and the villagers surrounding them, shadowing their every move. He couldn't do that to them. He had to hold on for his team.

His attention zeroed in on the ground in front of him and it took all his efforts to push back the pain burning from the inside of his body out. The sounds around him faded, and he was only marginally aware of Ronon next to him, and Teyla and McKay a few steps behind.

Thankfully the scientist had stopped asking questions and now had his nose buried in his computer pad. He wondered what McKay was looking for, but he didn't have the energy to think about it, and he didn't dare ask. Not with Jaws and his posse standing right there.

John reached another wide intersection of halls, and he paused, trying to figure out which way to go. The world was swirling dizzily around him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to travel much farther. A wide set of doors to his right looked promising, and he hoped it would give his team the room they needed to defend themselves.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_"You will take me to this place," Jaws said, jabbing his finger into one corner of the map._

"Go to hell," John answered, refusing to look down at the map.

Jaws pulled out a small, silver disk with a black square at its center. It was slightly smaller than the one attached to John but obviously made of the same material. Jaws's finger hovered a moment over the black square until John's eyes were locked on the disk, and then he pressed his thumb firmly down.

John immediately felt ice cold liquid rush into his chest, just below the bottom edge of his sternum. His mind flashed on the large bore needle in the center of the disk, and then ice cold turned to burning, pulsing heat. It spread out in thin tentacles like an electric current, wrapping around his ribs and crushing inward.

The sensation slowly ebbed, and John found himself leaning over, his arms wrapped protectively around his body, his head hanging between his knees. His breaths came out in pain-filled gasps, and sweat dripped down his face and neck and back. A single salty drop seemed to fall to the floor in slow motion, and he could almost hear the little pattering thump it made as it splashed.

A buzzing sound grew louder around him, and then hands were grabbing his arms, their fingers digging painfully into his skin. They pulled him upright then held on, making sure John stayed in the chair. Tebel and his two councilors were crying out, begging anyone and everyone to stop, to let them go. Two of Jaws's henchmen were yelling at them to shut up, and Jaws himself was slamming his fist into the table to get everyone's attention.

When the room finally quieted down, Jaws leaned forward. "Was that an adequate demonstration of what will happen if you don't help us?"

"Go to hell," John said again, but this time it came out breathless and half-garbled.

Jaws made a show of waving the disk—his remote control—in front of John, his finger once again hovering over the black button. John refused to be intimidated by the man. He stared at Jaws, ignoring the disk that was causing him so much agony.

Jaws finally slipped the disk into his pocket, his face hardening. "I can see you care little for your own well-being. Apparently that isn't motivating enough." He tapped his fingers against the desk, as if calculating, but John could see the man already had a backup plan. "Perhaps you care a little more about the well-being of others?"

John glanced briefly at the three terrified councilors in the corner of the room, but Jaws immediately started laughing. "Oh, not them. I think I know exactly what motivates you, dear friend. Or should I say who_ motivates you."_

John shivered slightly, his heart sinking. The man in front of him was ruthless and greedy, and John was under no illusion that he would do anything to get his "riches."

"Take another look at this map. If you don't help me, my men—innocent, traumatized victims of the recent Wraith culling—will spread out among your own people, and every time you refuse to answer a question or do as I say, they will kill as many people within their reach as they can. Is that clear?"

John nodded, stifling the stream of expletives threatening to spill from his mouth.

"Good. I'm glad we've reached an understanding. That's always the first step in any long-lasting friendship," Jaws said, sounding almost jovial. He pushed the map a little closer to John, and John acquiesced, staring down at the paper.

"Do you recognize the place this map depicts?"

John didn't. It could have been anywhere in the entire Pegasus Galaxy, but there was no way he was admitting to that. Jaws expected him, with his superior knowledge of Atlantis, to know exactly what that map was showing.

"Yeah," he mumbled, careful to keep his face down toward the table.

"Where is it? Where is this place?"

John glanced up to see excitement dancing in Jaws's eyes, his treasure almost within his grasp. I can use that. I can use it against him,_ he thought. He made a show of reaching out for the paper, biting his lip as if studying the lines a little more closely._

"This city's pretty big, but I think I know the area…" he said, then paused. His thoughts were racing, and he managed to push the pain in his chest and stomach to the back of his mind. If he could lead Jaws and his little band of treasure hunters out to some remote area of the city, then leave them there…

John nodded. This could work. You might just get out of this one alive, Johnny-boy.__

"Well?" Jaws demanded, interrupting his thoughts.

"It's not an area we use. It's kind of far, on the edge of the city. I remember exploring hallways that looked like this, but we didn't really go into any of the rooms."

The story had way too many holes in it to be believable, and John held his breath, waiting for Jaws to call his bluff and for his chest to explode in pain. The man's greed, however, was more than John had even guessed at, and he drank up every last word. John didn't dare look around, fearing that anyone watching him closely would see something in his expression to give him away, but the others seemed just as excited, and a soft babbling broke out.

"Quiet, quiet. We are far from achieving our goals," Jaws finally said. He turned back to John. "You will take us there, Colonel."

John had expected nothing less. "Right," he muttered.

"You think I'm a fool, blinded by the treasure almost within my possession?"

John's heart sank. Here it comes._ He forced his face to go blank, then looked up at Jaws. The man was almost shaking with anticipation, but his eyebrows were pulled down into a frown._

Don't hurt yourself trying to think,_ John almost said. The words were on the tip of his tongue before he bit his lip and forced himself to wait for Jaws's next move in silence._

"Call your team."

"What?" John blurted, jerking forward a little in his chair. The disk pulled painfully at his stomach again, and his hand moved instinctively to cover it.

Jaws's eyes followed the movement of John's hand, and he broke out into a wicked grin. "Call your team. I believe we will need their help on this little adventure." He snapped his fingers and someone tossed John's radio earpiece onto the table.

John reached for it, but before he could do anything, Jaws grabbed his wrist, squeezing so tightly John thought the man was going to snap the bones in half. "You will not tell them anything about us or our plans. You will portray the image of perfect health. If you so much as hint about what we are really after or about what has been done to you, or if you suddenly grow bold and stupid and decide you no longer want to help us, I will start by killing them, one-by-one. Am I clear?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

John could feel the villagers growing more and more excited behind him, and he hoped that they would be distracted enough to get the jump on them. Jaws was almost prancing with anticipation at the riches he was so sure Atlantis was hiding.

He had no plan. He'd hoped he would have come up with something before this point, but it was now or never. He was on the verge of collapse as he took the final few steps toward the doors in front of him.

"This is it," he said, and he heard Jaws inhale sharply beside him. Ronon edged a little closer to his other side, and John just caught the runner's hand moving toward his blaster out of the corner of his eye. He felt his heart lift a little and beneath the burning, raging agony tormenting his body, he felt the first inkling of hope that this just might work out after all.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

"This is it," John said, stopping in front of a set of wide doors and dropping all pretense that they were searching for a missing child. Teyla glanced around, tightening her grip on her weapon. The villagers beside her stepped forward, their eyes riveted to the door.

_What do they hope to find here?_ Teyla had no idea where they were. She was certain no one in Atlantis had spent much time in this part of the city—the filth on the walls would attest to that.

John wavered, looking ready to collapse. Besides him, Ronon dropped his arms and flexed his hands. Teyla knew that particular mannerism well—Ronon was prepared to fight the second he had the chance. John took a couple of hesitant steps, sliding leaden feet forward.

"I got it," Ronon said, moving forward with him. Teyla drifted to the side, closer to Rodney and prepared to shove him to the ground if needed. The scientist had finally looked up and was staring at the door in confusion.

"What's in there?" he asked. Before anyone could answer, Ronon opened the door.

One of the villagers rushed forward into the dark room. The large man yelled out in frustration, but that seemed to spur everyone else into action. The other villagers rushed in as well, streaming around Teyla, Ronon, John, and their leader.

The area beyond the door was dark, but the sounds of the villagers footsteps echoed as they ran, and Teyla thought the room inside sounded large and empty. The leader stepped forward toward the room as well, but he grabbed John's arm as he moved and tried to drag him along.

"Aaagghhh…" John screamed in pain, wrapping his arms protectively around his chest. His knees began to fold under him.

Teyla rushed forward, but Ronon was quicker. He grabbed John's other arm and tried to pull him back, raising his weapon to point it at the large villager.

Teyla saw a flash of movement behind him. "Ronon, watch out!" she yelled, and the runner twisted just in time to avoid the gunshot. He fired his blaster into the room, catching one of the villagers who had been running back toward his boss.

Teyla jumped forward in the split-second lull, kicking out with her foot. She caught the large-jawed man square in the lower back, and he grunted in pain at the contact. His grasp on John's arm slipped as he flew forward into the room.

Rodney was suddenly at the door, waving his hand frantically in front of the control mechanism until the door slid closed. Teyla flinched at the thudding sound of bullets hitting the other side, and then the five villagers were screaming and banging at the metal. Rodney ripped the control panel off and smashed the flat crystals inside, effectively locking the door.

"Sheppard?" Ronon knelt down, his grip on John's arm the only thing keeping the man upright. John had fallen to his knees with his head hanging limply.

"John, what happened? What is wrong?"

John forced his head up to look at Teyla, the exertion of the small movement almost overwhelming. His eyes were creased with pain, his skin pale and clammy. He reached a hand up to Teyla and she grabbed it, holding it tight.

"Got…get out…get…'way…"

"What?"

"Need…get away…please…"

He was begging. Teyla glanced up at Ronon and Rodney and saw the confusion and anxiety she was feeling on their own faces.

"John—"

"No," he interrupted her. "Get me…'way…fr-from…him…" He flicked his eyes toward the door, and Teyla thought of the large man who'd been standing so close to John throughout the entire journey.

Ronon needed no more motivation. He wrapped his arm around John's waist and lifted the man up. John cried out, the sound broken only by his rapid, hitching breath. His legs immediately began to buckle and he sank toward the ground.

"McKay!" Ronon yelled out. Rodney jumped forward, grabbing John on the other side, and together they lifted their team leader and ran back down the hall they'd just come through.

Teyla followed them, keeping a close eye behind them as they moved away from the door. The villagers sounded frantic and out-of-control angry. Teyla wondered if they'd be able knock down the door. She eyed the decrepit, dirty walls. Had the door been in an inhabited part of the city, she was confidant the villagers would never escape, but down here, she wasn't so sure. Ten thousand years was a long time for a door to grow weak and for metal to corrode.

Suddenly, John screamed, arching his back. The unexpected movement caused Rodney to lose his grip, and John's body sagged to the side. Ronon stopped, frantically reaching around to compensate for the shifting weight, and he managed to catch their team leader and lower him gently to the floor.

"Sheppard, buddy, talk to me," Ronon said, kneeling next to John.

John was ripping at his vest, at the spot his hands had been hovering over during their entire trek through the halls of Atlantis. He pulled the zipper down about halfway before he screamed again.

Teyla cringed at the sound as she rushed forward. John's back arched away from the floor. His face was red, his teeth clenched tightly together and his eyes closed. He thrashed weakly at Ronon and Teyla as they tried to hold him down and keep him from hurting himself.

"Breathe, Sheppard," Ronon yelled, grabbing John's face with both hands. John suddenly gasped, then threw his head back, slamming it into the floor.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Rodney yelled, panicked, but he had his computer pad out again and he was typing frantically.

Teyla reached for John's vest, pulling the zipper the rest of the way down. As she reached under his vest, she felt that his t-shirt was soaking wet. She pulled her hand away, and in the low light of the hall saw the streak of red on her skin.

"He's bleeding," she called out, ripping open his vest and pushing it out of the way. John was still squirming, whimpering in pain and only half-conscious. Ronon glanced down in alarm, but he kept his hands on John's head to stop the man from slamming his skull against the ground again.

Teyla could just make out the darker streak of blood that had soaked into the bottom half of the black t-shirt. He'd bled a lot, most of it soaking into his t-shirt and the top of his pants. Teyla lifted the shirt carefully and grimaced at the red-stained skin of his stomach.

"What's wrong with him?" Ronon asked.

Teyla lifted the shirt even more, bringing it up to John's chest. "There is something here, on his chest," she answered. A small silver disk ringed in blood sat in the middle of his torso—half on his sternum, half on the upper part of his stomach. Teyla reached out to touch it, prodding it gently.

John screamed at the touch, bucking beneath both her and Ronon's hands. More blood dripped out from underneath it and ran in bright rivulets down the indents of his ribcage.

"Rodney!" Teyla yelled at the same time as Ronon leaned forward and began whispering frantically to John, trying to calm him down.

Rodney was on his knees a few feet away, still tapping at his computer pad. He glanced up to see the silver disk attached to John's body and his face paled. "I knew it. I knew it. I knew it," he mumbled, still typing.

"What is it?"

"Wait, just…give me a second…"

Teyla watched him punching fingers into the computer pad so hard she almost expected him to puncture the screen. He bit his lip, concentrating on the information flowing past him.

"There!" he cried out, tapping the screen one final time, and John's writhing body relaxed beneath her hands.

Teyla stared down at her friend. Besides the blood, his body was covered in a sheen of sweat and he was shaking so hard he almost looked like he was having a seizure. His eyes were glassy and filled with agony, but his energy seemed to be completely spent. Ronon released his grip, and John's head lolled to the side.

His eyes were open, but Teyla was not sure if he was conscious or not. She grabbed his wrist, feeling for a pulse, and felt the weak but rapid beat beneath her fingertips. His skin was cool to the touch, and his chest rose and fell in frenzied heaving gasps.

"John?" she called out, moving up to lay a hand on the side of John's face. She turned his head toward him and stared down at his half-lidded eyes.

"What the hell is that thing?" Ronon said, frustration adding a dangerous edge to his voice.

"I don't know," Rodney answered. He shoved his computer pad back into his backpack. "I picked up this weird signal when we stopped for our break—like a transmitter signal. Took me a while to figure out it was coming from Sheppard and that big sweaty guy. Or maybe going to Sheppard. I think that villager has some kind of remote control connected to that disk."

"We've got to get it off of him," Ronon growled, reaching for the disk. His fingers wrapped around the edges and John immediately moaned in pain, his arms flailing weakly.

"Stop!" Rodney cried out, and Ronon immediately let go. "We do need to get it off of him, but let's let Keller take care of that. I've managed to hack into the signal and block it for now, so whatever that villager is trying to do with his remote control, he can't anymore."

"The disk is attached firmly to his body," Teyla added, leaning in for a closer look. "We could do much more damage if we tried to remove it here." She grabbed John's wrist again and noted the pulse felt even weaker. "John is in shock and has lost a lot of blood. We have to get him out of here."

A sudden explosion down the hall echoed toward them. If the villagers hadn't broken through the door yet, they soon would. Ronon grimaced then reached under John's body.

"Help me lift him up," he said. "I don't want to hurt him any more than I have to."

Rodney and Teyla jumped into action, holding John steady as Ronon lifted him into his arms. John groaned as Ronon finally stood up, and Teyla breathed a sigh of relief when her friend's eyes finally rolled into the back of his head and he passed out completely.

_Hopefully that will save him from the pain for a few minutes,_ she thought. Another blast echoed down the hall, jarring them all into the quickest sprint they could manage back toward the inhabited parts of Atlantis.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

John had a high pain threshold, but even he had his limits, and the raw, burning fire raking through his body was way, way, way beyond anything he could stoically handle. He'd been close to collapse, that he remembered. There'd been a door in front of him, opening up to who knew what, and then…

Then things got a little fuzzy. He remembered a lot of screaming and chaos as people moved too quickly around him. Hands grabbed at him, and then his chest exploded, the same current of pain he remembered from the first time Jaws had pressed his little black button, but this time multiplied by ten.

Vague, hazy images of his teammates floated in front of his face, and he wondered if they'd managed to avoid the fallout of Jaws and his merry little band of treasure hunters.

Then he'd passed out. Or he thought he'd passed out. At any rate, the next time he opened his eyes, the ceiling was bouncing past him. His face was rubbing against Ronon's rough shirt, and he realized the bigger man was carrying him, but he had no memory of being picked up.

Three more jarring, bouncing steps was enough for him and his abused chest and stomach. He could still feel the hooks digging and twisting painfully into his body. John reached out grabbing at Ronon's shirt and pulling at the man. The muscles in his body spasmed against the growing onslaught of pain as he became fully conscious, and he jerked in the runner's arms.

The man slowed down, looking down at his burden. John closed his eyes, grateful the motion had ended. He could feel tears of agony streaming down his face.

"Sheppard?" Ronon called out, and John twisted in the man's arms. He just wanted to curl up on the ground, as if that would protect him from the raw throbbing in the center of his chest. His body continued to shake and shudder, and the ceiling swayed drunkenly around John's head.

A moment later, he was on the ground, his head in Teyla's lap. He tried to roll over onto his side, but strong hands held him down, preventing him from moving. He let out a broken whimper, the only lucid sound he had the energy and coherency to utter—which wasn't saying much.

"Shhh, John, you must lie still," Teyla whispered, and John's struggling quieted at her soft whisper. He blinked open his eyes to see Rodney and Ronon crouched behind a pile of debris next to him.

"Wh…what…?" he tried to ask. Both of them had their weapons drawn and were peering cautiously down the hallway.

"The villagers have escaped the room we locked them in," Teyla whispered.

John flashed on Jaws and his nebulous silver disk, and his hands flew toward his chest in a panic. He could still feel blood seeping out from under the disk and running down his sides. Teyla grabbed John's hands and held them away from his body.

"Rodney has disrupted the signal that activates the disk, but it is still deeply attached to your body. You must not touch it."

"…hurts…" John breathed out.

Teyla pushed back the hair clinging to his sweaty forehead and John felt himself beginning to relax. "I know, John. Just hold on a little bit longer."

John nodded and let his head sink into her lap. He was exhausted—completely wrung out from the day's events. "Where's Jaws?" he mumbled.

"Jaws?" Teyla repeated.

Ronon glanced back at them. "Is that the head village guy with the big head?"

"Apt nickname," Rodney muttered, but he kept his eyes on the hall as the sound of footsteps began to grow.

"Why did you not tell us what that man had done to you?" Teyla asked.

John shook his head. "Couldn't…they jumped me…this morning…con-convinced there's treasure here…" he ground out. He was beginning to shake again, and he suddenly felt cold. "Wanted me to…lead them…said…kk—said they'd…kill…you if I told…"

"John, what's wrong?"

"…don't know…c-cold…h'rrtss…" he moaned as full-length shudders wracked his body. The motion ignited the pain in his chest, and he writhed against the floor, once again attempting to roll over and curl up on his side.

"He is getting worse," he heard Teyla's panicked voice above his head. "We must get him to the infirmary."

"Here they come," Ronon announced.

The next few minutes passed in a haze as the hallway erupted in gunfire. John could hear shouts in between the shots, and the sound swirled around him, enveloping him until it drowned out all other sounds.

What felt like a moment later, he opened his eyes to see the hallway once again flying past his head. It looked different though—well-lit and clean. He tried to look around but found his body wouldn't respond, his limbs heavy and sagging with exhaustion.

He moaned, blinking his eyes at the tilting world above him, and Keller's face popped into view. She was talking to him—John could see her lips moving—but he couldn't hear any sound. She disappeared as suddenly as she appeared, and he realized he was lying on a gurney, a mask pressed firmly to his face.

He felt a hand grab his and squeeze his fingers, and Teyla's face appeared above him. She spoke too, and John tried to concentrate on what she was saying to him, but then she smiled, and although it didn't quite dispel the fear he could see in her eyes, it was enough, and John sank into darkness.

ooooooooooooooooooooo


	4. Chapter 4

_**Epilogue**_

"John, you are awake," Teyla said, a smile splitting her face as she approached his bed. For the first time since this whole fiasco started, she felt her heart lift, finally convinced that it was over and that they'd all survived again.

John rolled his head across the pillow to look at her, blinking his eyes in groggy confusion. He was leaning back against a stack of pillows, not quite lying down, not quite sitting up. Keller had a stethoscope to his chest, listening to his lungs, and she gave Teyla a brief smile before turning her attention back to her patient.

Teyla pulled up a nearby chair to sit at John's side. She grabbed his hand with both of hers and reveled in the warmth of his recovering body. It had been a close call. Somehow, one of the councilors had gotten word to one of the Marines that Sheppard and his team were in trouble. By the time they'd tracked them down, Ronon and Rodney were in an all out gunfight with the villagers, and Teyla was holding onto John for dear life.

The villagers hadn't stood much of chance to begin with, but with the additional support of Lorne and a couple of Marine units, the treasure hunters had gone down fast. Keller and her team had been notified as well, and they'd reached John a few minutes after that. A mad rush back to the infirmary and hours of surgery later, Keller had finally emerged holding the nefarious silver disk and informed them that John would be okay.

"How are you feeling, John?" she asked. John blinked up at her in response, looking confused.

"He just woke up," Keller said, adjusting the nasal cannula under his nose. "He's a little out of it still."

Teyla smiled and reached over to brush a lock of hair from John's forehead. John twitched, a slight frown of annoyance creasing his forehead.

"How's the pain, Colonel? Do you need anything?" Keller spoke loudly, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. John turned toward her, wincing at the movement. His arm reached toward the center of his chest, but Keller grabbed it quickly before he could do anything.

"Relax, Colonel. Don't touch your chest."

"Chest?" John mumbled, then coughed. Teyla poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand, and turned John's head toward her. His eyes tracked her sluggishly, but he relaxed when she prodded his lips with the straw.

"Sheppard! You're up," McKay announced. Teyla pulled the cup away as the other two team members walked up to his side.

"Hey. How you doing, buddy?" Ronon asked, a grin splitting his face.

"Buddy?" John blinked, staring up at the runner.

"He just woke up," Keller said again.

"Up?" John asked.

"He's on the good stuff, obviously," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. He disappeared for a second before returning with a couple of chairs, one of which Ronon grabbed and planted next to Teyla.

"Is Woolsey still in his meeting with the village council?" Teyla asked, keeping a hand on John's arm but turning to her other two teammates.

"Just got out," Ronon answered. "We've manage to rout out all of Jaws's gang, including their insider man, Councilor Gjon."

"What's going to happen to them?" Keller asked as she pulled the blanket up around John's shoulders and tucked it in.

"Who?" John asked, rolling his head in her direction and frowning. Teyla leaned forward, brushing his hair back and trying to soothe the confusion out of his face.

"The lead councilor—what's his name? Tebel?—he's leaving it to us to deal with the remaining treasure-hunting posse," Rodney answered. "Woolsey's talking to the SGC and the IOC right now to figure out what to do with them."

"I can't believe something like this happened right here on Atlantis, right under our noses."

John blinked up at the doctor, his eyes suddenly sharp. "Atlantis," he stated firmly. Keller looked down and smiled at him. She patted him on the shoulder before turning to his team. "Don't keep him up too long. He's got quite a bit of recovering to do."

The others nodded, and Keller began walking away. She'd only gone a few steps before she spun around. "Oh, and don't mess with my patient. If I catch you taking advantage of the fact that he's completely drugged out…" She let the rest of the threat go unspoken, but she shook her finger at Rodney and Ronon one last time before leaving.

"Like we'd mess with him," Rodney huffed.

Teyla rolled her eyes, knowing very well just how much the scientist would love to mess with John. Ronon was smirking next to her, and she sighed, wondering how she put up with them sometime.

She turned back to John. His face was still deathly pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes, but he looked a hundred times better than he had the day before. She shivered a little at the thought of what had been done to him. Councilor Tebel had explained how the treasure hunters had taken them hostage and subdued John.

"Okay?"

Teyla shook herself out of her reverie at John's question, and she looked down to see him looking up at her full of concern.

"I am fine, John," she answered. She grabbed his hand in both of hers again and watched as his eyes start to droop closed. "You should rest."

"Rest?"

"You are safe, John."

"Yeah, now he is. Only Sheppard would get himself abducted while we're all sitting around at home."

"Home?"

"Atlantis," Ronon added, and Teyla frowned at the glint of mischief in the man's eye.

"Atlantis," John repeated with a sharp, definitive nod of his head.

"And the voodoo chicken priestess has deemed that you will recover," Rodney said, tapping John's foot.

"Chicken?"

"Voodoo chicken priestess," Rodney said with that same glint of mischief on his face.

"Pri..ss…priesss,"

"Priestess. Voodoo."

"Voodoo?" John rolled his head back toward Teyla. His body sank a little deeper into the bed as exhaustion pulled at him, but his eyes were bright and baffled.

"On Atlantis," Ronon said loudly.

"'lantis," John repeated again. If he'd had the strength, he might have pounded his fist on the bed.

"That's right," Rodney jumped in. "Atlantis."

"At…'lantisss."

"Rodney, Ronon—that is enough," Teyla interjected before either of them could say anything more.

"'nufff…" John slurred. Teyla turned her back on her two teammates as they tried to stifle their laughter and focused on John's drawn, confused face.

"Sleep, John. You will feel better later."

John looked like he was about to repeat her again, but Teyla moved a finger up to his lips to quiet him. "Ssshhh…" she soothed. She stroked the side of his cheek with the back of her fingers, smiling when John's eyes finally slid shut. The muscles in his face relaxed, and his breathing evened out into sleep.

Teyla turned back to her still-giggling teammates and pinned them with a hard stare. "I will deal with both of you later," she said firmly, like she was talking to a couple of delinquent children. "In the gym."

She tried to maintain her stern look, she really did, but she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the look of abject horror on both of their faces. Besides her, John slept peacefully.

How she loved this team.

**END**


End file.
